


Would It Be A Sin

by mybeanieandme



Series: Post Omens Antics [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dessert, Italian Vacation, M/M, Sexy Times, Train Travel, Wine, so many
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 22:50:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19119298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybeanieandme/pseuds/mybeanieandme
Summary: They go to Italy.





	Would It Be A Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Again- no one has proof read this. The title is taken from Can't Help Falling In Love which I woke up with stuck in my head. Written for that same friend and for the lovely person in the comments section who gently encouraged this. I love every single one of the comments. They brighten my day and give me a spring in my step. So thank you to each and every one of you. Even if you don't comment. I appreciate you reading. Thank you all.

When it came to travel, they had had to reach a compromise. 

With time in mind, Aziraphale had suggested the obvious, easiest and quickest way to get anywhere- flying via airplane. Crowley suggested that it was insulting as they both could fly themselves. But had to concede that getting there as quickly as possible would allow more time for fancy lemon sponge cake and sex. He wanted to take the Bentley, which for Aziraphale, was completely out of the question. He worried they would be pulled over in every country and despite their ability to miracle-away a ticket it wouldn’t go unnoticed and it would potentially cause great delays. 

So they took the train. Well, they took three separate trains. In hindsight it was only just quicker than driving or, as Crowley suggested, of walking there themselves. But the countryside views were lovely, not that Crowley saw them as he had slept the entire time. This suited Aziraphale just fine, as Crowley had used his shoulder as a cushion for the duration of the trip. And what could be more beautiful than the love of your life and some of the finest landscapes the heavens had architected? 

When they arrived, the morning was a brilliant sunrise as pretty as God could muster. Between nooks of the the sheer cliffs and limestone colored fishing villages, the sunrise had quite an array of surfaces upon which to spread its splendor. Even Crowley tipped his glasses up ever so slightly to behold the colors on the sea. 

“This was a brilliant suggestion, my dear,” Aziraphale smiled and squeezed his arm. As the angel started towards the door of their booked villa, Crowley pulled him in for a kiss, the first of many. 

The reservation was under A.Z. Fell as the far more responsible of the two parties had booked everything. The amenities of the hotel included a gym, spa, swimming pool and, it being Italy, a church, none of which were they likely to use. He had selected a suite with a view and was surprised when Crowley said absolutely nothing about how starkly white everything was. From the walls, to the lamps, to the mints on the pillow, everything was the color of freshly fallen snow. No, Crowley said nothing about the color (or lack thereof) but he did say, “Look at all the places we get to fuck!” With his arms held aloft like he had created it himself. Upon examination, Aziraphale could not disagree. Every piece of white furniture had potential. 

They ordered brunch to their room as Aziraphale unfolded several brochures. “It’s important to know that this hotel used to be a monastery-,” he said clearing his throat. 

Crowley dipped his tongue lewdly into his cappuccino. “I guess that explains all the bloody gothic arches and pendentives,” the demon said. 

Aziraphale’s mouth gaped slightly. “Well- yes- exactly! But it’s obviously no longer consecrated except for the church.”

“We’re about to deconsecrate the entire room again,” Crowley assured him. 

That was the first time they had sex on the trip. Aziraphale did not know Crowley knew anything about architecture he’d gotten so suddenly hard at the mention of pendentives Crowley had set down his cappuccino and set to work flicking his tongue at something else. They were just wrapping themselves in luxurious robes when room service had arrived. Crowley signed for it as Aziraphale was in no position to get up. He wasn’t wrapped in his robe so much as- Crowley had thrown it on him so he wasn’t completely stark naked spread eagle in the middle of the bed when the food was rolled in. 

Crowley set the tray on the bed and shoved a buttery flakey pastry in the angel’s mouth. Aziraphale munched happily, put the robe on properly, and sat up in bed. He reached for Crowley’s glasses, taking them and placing them on his own head. “I like your eyes,” Aziraphale informed him.

“I like yours,” Crowley answered with a small smile. 

“You know- I’ve been to actual heaven innumerable times but-,” Aziraphael started as he spread lemon curd on his second piece of toast. 

Crowley raised an eyebrow and sipped his second cappuccino. “Yes, angel?”

“This is so much better,” he told the demon and the demon leaned in to kiss him because it was all he could think to do to express how he felt in return. Crowley knew demons were unredeemable and he had very little interest in the heaven from which he’d sauntered vaguely downward away. But this- this was all he’d ever wanted. Forever on earth with the begin he loved. 

Then they had sex for the second time. It was closer to what humans might refer to as “making love” as tacky as that might have sounded. Crowley flung all the food accouterments off the bed, who miracled them safely to the floor he was unsure because he was busy kissing Aziraphale who tasted like lemons like it was all he ever wanted to do. 

“I want to ride your cock,” Crowley told him as he untied Aziraphale’s freshly clasped robe belt. 

“Yes,” Azriaphale agreed, attempting to slip out of his robe as best he could half sitting on it. He reached for the comically large bottle of lubricant Crowley had insisted on bringing (yet another reason to not travel by plane) and slicked his fingers. Crowley straddled his lap, robes billowing around his knees like the angelic garb they both used to wear. 

He worked Crowley open meticulously, reveling in the way his mouth fell open and the little gasps that escaped. “You’re so beautiful,” Aziraphale told him and Crowley shuddered and leaned forward to kiss him. The angel took that opportunity to replace his fingers with his cock making the demon moan long and low in the back of his throat. 

“You feel so good inside,” Aziraphale gasped as Crowley nestled fully into his lap and rocked his hips slowly. 

“You’re the pretty one,” Crowley assured him and moved his hips faster, voice catching as the angel’s cock hit just right. He reached his hands down, grappling for purchase on Aziraphale’s chest. There were little marks from earlier, just starting to fade. Crowley wanted them to stay so people would know who the angel belonged to. Him. He was his. And the feeling was so incredibly mutual. 

His hips stuttered as Aziraphale bucked up to meet his thrust. Aziraphale held Crowley’s hip in one hand and his cock in other. He slowed their pace so his cock went harder and deeper until Crowley felt like he might go crazy as Aziraphale stroked him in time with every thrust. 

“Please-,” Crowley gasped. “Aziraphale-.”

The angel kissed him and fucked him faster until he came in his hand and all over his chest. Aziraphale marveled at the euphoria on the demon’s face as he threw his head back and moaned his name, it pushed him over the edge fucking into Crowley twice more as he came. 

Crowley collapsed on the bed beside him and kissed him softly. Gangly limbs outstretched to envelope Aziraphale and they lay like that until one or both of them decided they definitely needed gelato. 

The next evening they were sitting on the hotel’s restaurant patio looking out on the ocean as the sunset both looking like the cat that had got the cream. Above them sat a complicated canopy of vines and leaves and above that only the first signs of an infinite starry night. 

“You’re not getting me in a boat,” Crowley doubled down. 

“But you’d look quite dashing on a boat,” Aziraphale frowned. 

“I’ll sit in the pool with you,” Crowley offered.

“I’ve not brought any swimwear,” Aziraphale shook his head. 

Crowley looked at him over his glasses. “Not brought any swimwear? We’re on vacation.”

“I’ve never owned any swimwear,” the angel said. 

“How is anyone supposed to see all the hickeys I’ve given you if you’ve not got any swimwear?” the demon teased but completely seriously and Aziraphale’s hand went instinctively to the mark on his neck no one could see under his collar. 

“Honestly!” Aziraphale cried as quietly as he could and quite bashfully.

“Maybe it’s better you’ve got clothes on because who knows what I might do to you if you were shirtless in public,” Crowley waggled his eyebrows and took a bite of his steak. 

Aziraphale blushed the color of the tomatoes on his plate. “You don’t feel like we’re not taking advantage of tourist activities?”

Crowley shook his head. “What did we say we were going to do on this trip?”

“Each other,” Aziraphale said so quietly it was barely a whisper.

“Exactly,” Crowley answered, quite loudly, “Anything else we get up to is just bonus stuff.”

Their bonus activities included visiting every book and gelato shop and trying every restaurant that included “ristorante” in the name. When Crowley tentatively asked if Aziraphale had any interest in visiting the historical churches, Aziraphale had responded with a simple, “Why would I want to go anywhere you couldn’t be?”

But he had to admit they were quite beautiful. Everything was beautiful. And all the food was delicious, a feast for the eyes and a feast for the stomach. Aziraphale was sure he hadn’t eaten so well in centuries. Crowley, for his part, was really becoming a regular sommelier. Aziraphale secretly bought him a case of a particularly excellent red wine they tried (and Crowley had loved) with dinner on their fourth night there and had it shipped home as a surprise. 

On their final night as Aziraphale was figuring out how to pack the few books he had purchased on the trip into his suitcase, Crowley stood surveying the room.

“Have you lost something?” Aziraphale asked, concerned.

“No,” Crowley answered, shaking his head for emphasis. 

Aziraphale’s hands went to his hips and he asked curiously, “Have _I_ lost something?”

“No,” Crowley chuckled. “I’m just making sure we’ve had sex on every possible surface.”

Aziraphale shut his back and locked the clasps. “I thought you’d made sure this morning,” he answered and Crowley wasn’t sure if a voice could blush but it sounded like his was. 

“Never can be too careful!” Crowley said. “We almost missed that second desk chair! And where would we have been? Back on the train lamenting what could have been!”

Aziraphale walked over and kissed him quiet. 

“Wait,” Crowley said and pushed the angel gently so he sat down on the bed. “I got you something.”

“What?” Aziraphale asked as Crowley dashed out of their room. 

He returned thirty seconds later with a plate ladened with an ornate yellow dessert. 

“Delizia al limone!” Aziraphale gasped delightedly. 

“I knew you needed one more before we left,” Crowley offered him the plate which Aziraphale took, set on the bed, and kissed him instead. 

One kiss lead to another and with the sacred delizia al limone taking up exactly 20 centimeters of their kingsize bed they opted to have sex on the chez lounge again. The first time they’d had sex there Crowley had bent Aziraphale over the back and fucked him hard enough they had had to miracle away the aftermath. This time is was Aziraphale who pushed Crowley down and spread his legs. “Touch your cock for me,” the angel requested the the demon obliged.  
Crowley stroked himself from based to tip, artfully and for show, until he couldn’t stand it and started stroking more dutifully until he had to moan. Aziraphale pressed their cocks together and mimicked the motion of Crowley’s hand as their lips met. They came hard between them, hot and flush.

“I love you,” Aziraphale told Crowley as they rinsed off in the shower.

“I love you too,” Crowley answered, kissing one of the angel’s shoulder blades and then the other to keep the symmetry. “You know what I want to do now?”

“What?”

“Feed you fancy lemon sponge cake with a very tiny fork,” Crowley said. 

“Yes, please,” Aziraphale agreed.


End file.
